In Pari Delicto
by JamiW
Summary: Post-ep for "The Death of a Client"
1. Chapter 1

**Post-ep for "The Death of a Client" (subsequent events from the show don't exist in this world, nor does anything from my previous fics)**

* * *

**Alicia POV**

We were still dancing at two in the morning. I think I'd forgotten what a wonderful dancer Peter is.

"Stay with me tonight," he whispered in my ear as he held me close, and the invitation brought with it a tingling sense of anticipation, as well as a slight feeling of…well, guilt.

Because I kissed Will.

While I'm sleeping with Peter.

And I can rationalize it all I want, but the bottom line is that I screwed up and if I want our reconciliation to work then I have to come clean about it.

And I _do_ want it to work.

I wasn't sure, when we resumed our sex life, but I'm sure now.

I told Will a few hours ago that we had to be done, and that he needed to move forward with his life because _we_ were never going to happen again.

But the truth is, I should've been sure about that before I started sleeping with Peter.

I don't like the kind of person that makes me, still thinking about one man while sleeping with another.

Although it's not like I _literally_ thought about Will while I was with Peter. It's just…well, sometimes it's hard moving on from the possibility of something, especially when I spent a long time thinking about him prior to becoming involved. I kind of thought about Will as the one who got away, and then I caught him, and _then_ I found out we weren't quite as meant-to-be as I'd believed.

We weren't fairy tale lovers who found our way back to each other after twenty years.

It's more that it was an effort to recapture my youth, I think. I mean, Will was Georgetown. He was a time in my life when I was unencumbered and the world was mine for the taking.

Being with him was almost like going back to an easier time.

Except it wasn't, because after the newness wore off, I was still _me_. I still have kids and responsibilities and an estranged husband and a life. And as difficult as it's been in recent years, I like my life.

I don't _want_ to go backwards.

And I can't explain that damn kiss but I can sure as hell say that it won't happen again, because I'm not just sleeping with Peter.

I love him.

And now he's asking me to spend the night with him in his hotel room.

As much sex as we've been having lately, we haven't stayed the night together. I've wanted to from time to time, and I think he's wanted to as well, but I've been keeping a distance between us. An emotional distance. I guess I've wanted to protect myself from letting him hurt me again. Otherwise I'd feel like every clichéd wife in America, the ones who stay with cheating husbands. This way, I'm getting what I want from him without risking my heart.

Or at least, that was my plan. Be friends, enjoy each other physically, but don't get too attached so that if he strays again, I'll be okay.

Only things didn't exactly go according to plan because I _am_ attached.

And _I'm_ the one who strayed.

I pulled back slightly from Peter's embrace so that I could look him in the eye, and I found him watching me expectantly.

"I'd like that," I answered, and his responding smile sent a flood of arousal through me.

God, I love him.

What was I _thinking_ when I kissed Will?

Peter hugged me briefly and then released his hold on me as he said, "Let me make the rounds and then we can go."

So I stood back and watched him as he shook hands and smiled politely and said just the right thing to the remaining guests at the party, and then he came back to me and took me by the hand.

"Why do I feel like a kid on prom night?" he asked playfully as he led me towards the stairwell.

"What, you think you're going to get lucky?" I teased.

He paused at the bottom of the stairs and flashed me a look, that one that makes my body temperature shoot up several degrees, and then he said in a low, husky voice, "I'm already the luckiest man alive."

Then he kissed me, a gentle and stirring exploration that had me sighing contentedly as he pulled away fractionally before capturing my lips again.

And then suddenly a voice carried into the lobby, reminding both of us that we're potential subjects of any lingering paparazzi.

"We should continue this upstairs," he rumbled, and I hummed my agreement even though I was still savoring the moment.

Because as soon as we're behind closed doors, I _have_ to tell him, and his amorous mood will be a thing of the past. I hate knowing that I'm going to spoil the night, but I can't let my secret fester any longer.

I chose and rejected words in my head as we made our way to his suite, but there's no good way to say it.

"Did you check on the kids?" he asked as he slipped the keycard in the lock and then held open the door for me.

"They're in bed," I confirmed. My mother took them back home, since the threat against me turned out to be bogus.

"And your mother doesn't mind sleeping over?"

"A boundless supply of free alcohol," I said on an eye roll. "What's to mind?"

He chuckled as he locked the door, and then he turned around and pinned me with a predatory stare.

"I'm glad you're here," he said, reaching out to trace one finger along my bare shoulder. "I wasn't sure if you'd say yes."

He leaned over and pressed his lips against my skin, and it feels _so_ good, but I almost feel sick inside for what I'm about to say.

"Peter, we…I…there's something I need to tell you."

He immediately straightened and looked at me with concern, and God, I hate this.

I could be standing here enjoying having him peel off my gown…I could be telling him that I love him, since I haven't uttered those words since _before_…I could be feeling his talented hands and lips all over me…

But I screwed up, so I'm_ here _instead.

About to tell him.

"What is it?"

In spite of my efforts to come up with an eloquent way to say it, I've got nothing.

So I just said it.

"I kissed Will. Or, he kissed me. We kissed."

His expression darkened as his hand dropped away from my shoulder, and I could hear the seconds ticking off the clock as he stood and stared at me, only the hungry look is gone. Now it's confusion. And anger. And hurt.

"When?" he asked through gritted teeth.

"Two weeks ago."

"Two weeks?" he yelled. "And you're telling me _now_?"

"I thought it was important to be honest. I…Peter, it doesn't mean anything. It was a mistake, and I told him that."

He ran his hand over his face and took another step back from me, shaking his head in frustration.

"Are you still in love with him?" he asked after another moment, and his voice is tight…sad.

"No. I don't know if I ever was in love with him, but it's definitely over. It's been over, this was just…I don't know what it was."

"Is that what you were thinking about? Earlier, when we were dancing."

"What? No."

"So the _just a memory_ wasn't him?"

"I was thinking about a client," I answered truthfully. "The one who was killed tonight."

"Oh."

He turned away from me, loosening his tie as he walked towards the couch.

"We've slept together seven times in the past two weeks," he stated flatly. "Seven times _after_ you kissed him."

"I wanted to get things right in my head before I told you about it."

"And are they?" he asked bitterly. "Right in your head?"

"Peter," I sighed. "I.."

"It's really not fair of me to be mad, is it?" he interrupted. "I mean, hey, I probably had this coming. What's good for the goose, right?"

"It's not like that. I wasn't trying to get payback, or…or…or…"

"It doesn't matter."

"It…what?" I asked.

"This. You, me…where did we think we were going, anyway? What I did before is unforgiveable, and we'll never get back what we had. I was stupid to think you could ever fall in love with me again."

"Peter, no," I argued as I crossed the room to where he stood, and it hurt to see him stiffen a little as I got close. I'd planned to touch him but everything about his expression suggested that it wouldn't be a good idea so I just stood with my hands at my sides and looked at him entreatingly. "I _do_ love you. That's why it was so important for me to tell you because I realized that I'm in love with you, and I want us to start with a clean slate."

He held my gaze for a minute, but then he turned away again, walking over to the mini bar and pouring himself a drink. I could use one, too, but he didn't offer me anything. Instead he stood with his back to me as he tossed back the bourbon.

And I have no idea what to do next.

It might be funny if it didn't make me want to cry, the fact that we've practically switched places. And I know the situations are a little different, but it all boils down to the same thing. Trust, and the breaking of that trust.

When I initiated our renewed sex life, it was with the understanding that we'd be exclusive. I mean, there's no way I'd be okay with the idea of him sleeping with anyone else at the same time, and vice versa.

And no, kissing isn't the same as having sex, but it's still a breach.

It's still cheating.

It's still very wrong.

"I don't know what to say to you right now," he admitted after he refilled his drink. "At least not without sounding like a hypocrite."

"Say what you feel," I encouraged, my heart in my throat.

"Um…I think…I'd like you to go."

**To Be Continued**


	2. Chapter 2

**Peter POV**

* * *

I kept my back to the room as I moved to the window and for a moment, everything was silent as I stared through the glass.

But my focus isn't on the lights of the city.

It's on Alicia.

She hasn't moved, in spite of my request for her to leave, and I'm torn between wanting her to respect my wishes and being thrilled that she hasn't.

Although it's not like it was a test or anything.

When I asked her to leave, I meant it.

But probably not in the way she thinks.

I _am_ mad, but not so much at her as I am at me.

"No," she said firmly, her voice resonating through the quiet room.

"Alicia…" I sighed as I reluctantly turned around to face her, and she's still standing in the same spot, her gaze locked on mine, and she looks so determined and proud and…so goddamn beautiful that for a moment all I want to do is pull her into my arms.

But I can't. Not yet.

I need some time to make this right in my head because at the moment, I can vividly see her and Will together in my mind.

And I know it's not her fault. I mean, the fact that I'm picturing them instead of just forgiving her.

Because I _should_ forgive her.

Immediately.

After everything I did before…

"I'm not walking away," she said obstinately, and as if to prove her point, she took a couple of steps towards me. "Because what if…what if…"

She trailed off and to my surprise, she sucked in a harsh breath in an obvious effort to stave off tears.

_Now I've made her cry,_ I thought with self-loathing.

Why can't I just accept it and move on? I mean, so what if she kissed another man? It doesn't change how I feel about her.

_But it was Will_, I reminded myself. Someone she's slept with. Someone she cares about. And yeah, okay, so he's also someone I'm insanely jealous about which makes it that much harder for me.

"What if this is it? What if this is one of those moments, you know?" she finished, her voice breaking mid-sentence and the tears finally escaping.

Not a lot of them, but still…three or four drops rolled down her cheeks.

"One of what moments?" I asked, and I can't stop myself from moving towards her because the sight of her so upset, standing alone in the middle of the room…it breaks my heart.

"The kind that has long-lasting implications," she answered. "I don't want time to pass, and have us be apart, and then I look back on this night and wonder what would've happened if I'd stayed. If I'd fought for you. For us."

_Us. _

Something I thought that would forever be a thing of the past.

I mean, yeah, we've rekindled a hell of a sex life, but when I tried to extend it into something more - dinner or a date of some kind – she resisted. I assumed it was her way of protecting herself from me, considering all the pain I caused her.

_She said she loves me_, my subconscious pointed out. Words I've been waiting to hear for so long, and yet said in the wake of her confession, I almost overlooked them.

I took another step closer to her in an effort to breach that gaping chasm between us.

"I didn't ask you to go because I'm mad at you," I explained. "I just need to think. I'm upset, and a little bit hurt, but I only have myself to blame."

"Why?" she asked with what sounded like anger. She tilted her head to one side as she looked at me challengingly and once again I was struck by just how much I love her.

"Because I never talked about it…about what we're doing and what I want from it. And I never asked what _you_ want from it. So for me to have expectations of monogamy isn't fair. Especially when that's probably not something you expected to get from me in return."

"It can't keep coming back on you," she said quietly as she eased slightly closer to me. "You screwed up, but God knows you've paid dearly for it."

"So have you," I replied.

"And this time _I _screwed up," she said purposefully.

"As much as I hate what you did, I don't think there's any comparison."

"It's me, hurting you," she acknowledged. "And maybe it's even worse in this case because I know how badly it hurts to be on _your _side of it."

This whole situation is so messed up. Where would we be right now if I hadn't taken the path of arrogance and indiscretion?

I have absolutely no idea. We've come too far since then, with prison and the elections and the separation…her time with Will and my time with just _me,_ putting myself back together.

It's a miracle that we even still like each other, much less have a possibility for something more.

By this time, there's barely a couple of feet between us and my anger has dwindled along with the distance, so I took one more step towards her and then I held open my arms to her, and without hesitation she moved into my embrace.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Me, too."

"I know this night was supposed to be about something else, but…"

"I think it _is_ about something else," I interrupted, and then I moved my hand up into her hair, holding her close and appreciating the feel of her body against mine.

It just feels so natural and comfortable. Arousing and exciting. I don't get how I can simultaneously want to ravage her yet simply hold her safe in my arms, but I do, and suddenly nothing that happened between her and _him_ makes any difference to me at all.

It was two weeks ago.

She's seen him plenty of times since then and yet she chose to continue coming to see me.

To be _with_ me.

And I know, that's kind of a backwards relationship and I deserve better than that and so does she, which is why maybe it's time for us to start talking.

And to start putting a name on what we're doing.

"So…do we want to talk about it?" she asked me, almost as if she were reading my mind. "Or I can still go, if you want…"

Do I want her to go?

Hell, no. I didn't want her to leave a split second after I made the suggestion.

"I don't ever want you to leave," I stated.

I could feel her exhale, presumably in relief, and then she said, "Next time you want someone to stay, you shouldn't say something stupid like _I'd like you to go_."

I wasn't expecting her sense of humor to make an appearance, but I love that it did.

"Point taken," I said on a chuckle, but then I grew serious again as I said, "I didn't want you to see me angry. I don't have any _right_ to be upset with you for anything."

"So I just get a free pass from here on out?"

"Yeah, just…no more kissing Will, okay?"

I can't believe I can even make a joke about it, but you know what? She's here with _me_, even after I gave her the perfect opportunity to walk away, so fuck Will.

She pulled back in surprise, gauging my mood before laughing lightly, that low throaty laugh that I love, and then she said, "So Eli's still up for grabs, right?"

I barked out a laugh and then hugged her more tightly to me, breathing in her scent as we rocked back and forth.

"Peter," she said softly.

"Hmm?" I murmured as I pressed a kiss against the top of her head.

"I don't get any free passes. We're starting out again on even ground, okay? If we want this to work, then that's how it has to be."

"So we _are_ starting out again," I clarified. "Because I have to tell you, I don't just want sex. I want more. And I want _you_ to want more."

She was quiet for a moment, but only a moment, and then she took a small step back from me and settled her palms on my chest as she locked those exquisite eyes on mine.

"I want more," she said carefully. "I meant what I said earlier. I'm in love with you, Peter. Maybe even more than I was the first time around, and that's a little scary for me, but I really think we can make it work. I mean, if you want."

Her words rendered me speechless, considering the roller coaster this night has been.

She left me alone at the ball, and then she came back all smiles and wanting to dance.

She agreed to spend the night with me, and then she confessed to sharing a kiss with Will.

I asked her to leave, she insisted on staying.

And now when I push the issue of wanting us to be more than exes with benefits, she blows me away with her heartfelt admission.

I'd planned to take this whole thing slowly, but suddenly I feel like going for broke.

"I really want you to stay the night," I began as I settled my hands over top of hers where they're still resting on my chest.

"Me, too," she said, but I interrupted whatever else she might have been about to say as I leaned down to kiss her lightly.

"But," I said purposefully once I pulled back. "I changed my mind."

"Peter…"

"Just listen," I entreated. "Please."

She nodded and I couldn't resist stealing one more kiss from her, an innocent gesture that quickly turned combustible, and so I let the words rattle around in my head for a few minutes as I focused on kissing her instead, but maybe that was a mistake because she's so damn good at it…so unbelievably intoxicating…it was all I could do not to pick her up and throw her onto the bed.

But as badly as I messed things up before, I want to make sure I do this right.

So I pulled back.

And I love that she's breathless and completely worked up, and I love how she's looking at me with a mixture of anticipation and passion, and…I just love her.

"I'm going to say something, and then I really do want you to go," I said at last. "And not for any reason other than that I want you to think about it without me around to influence you one way or the other, okay?"

"Um…okay," she said cautiously.

"So tomorrow night, I'll pick you up. For a date. And then you can tell me."

"Tell you what?"

I don't know why I'm nervous, but I am.

Really, _really_ nervous.

Maybe because there's only one way this can end well, and I'm not sure if that's how it's going to go.

"The answer to my question."

"Peter, what…" she said in confusion.

"Marry me."

"We_ are_ married," she responded, and I love the smile that plays on her lips.

"I want to do it again. And this time, it'll be for the rest of our lives."

**To Be Continued**

* * *

**A/N: **spoiler alert** Okay, so it stinks that I had the idea for Peter to ask Alicia to marry him again, and then a spoiler comes out that it's going to happen on the show, BUT I love that it's going to happen on the show! And goodwifefan talked me into following through with my idea anyway, so...there you go :) **


	3. Chapter 3

**Alicia POV**

* * *

"Well?"

"Yes," I said emphatically.

Kalinda flashed me a brief smile, and said, "Good. Twenty minutes," and then disappeared from my office doorway.

I just accepted her invitation to go for a drink after work. She's asked me a few times in recent weeks and I haven't been able - or wasn't sure if I wanted - to go, but tonight I want to, and it looks like I can get out of here at a decent time this evening, and my date with Peter isn't until a little later.

_My date with Peter._

It sounds weird, saying it in my head, and yet just the thought has me smiling.

Last night, in his hotel room…

"_Marry me,"_ he said, sounding so sweet and sincere and…nervous. As if his happiness hinges on my answer.

"_We are married," _I reminded him, but I know what he means.

We don't live together.

We usually talk to each other every day, and we make parenting decisions together, and we're having a lot of sex.

But still...it's not the same.

It's not a_ real_ marriage.

We've been in an odd kind of limbo, but even so, I thought it was working okay for us. Well, until two weeks ago when I kissed Will. Because I never would've done that if I were _truly_ married.

_Would I? _

God, I hope not.

_"I want to do it again,"_ he said earnestly. _ "And this time, it'll be for the rest of our lives."_

The rest of our lives.

That's what it was supposed to be the first time around, and we failed.

Both of us.

But I don't see that happening again.

We've grown too much, and experiencing the loss of _us_, of our family…it's taken its toll on us. And I think it's made us appreciate what we had. It makes me want to get that back.

It also makes me think how much better it can be this time around.

I was supposed to leave his room at that point, but how could I just walk away after a statement like that?

After a _proposal_.

So I didn't leave. Not right away at least.

Instead I grabbed onto the front of his shirt and kissed him with a renewed sense of urgency and desire and emotion, and then I let go of the fabric and reached for his belt buckle, and I had it undone and the zipper halfway down before he stopped me.

"_Alicia,"_ was all he could say as his hands covered mine, and I love that his eyes had that wild look in them, and that he was right there with me in the _about-to-lose-control_ department.

"_I can stay a little while longer. As long as we don't talk, right?_" I posed purposefully, and as I said the words, I slid one hand from his grasp and finished pulling down his zipper. He closed his eyes and groaned as I reached inside and ran my hand over him, and then that thin thread of control he'd been clinging to finally snapped.

Things were kind of a blur after that.

An incredible, multi-orgasmic, hazy blur.

I'm not sure what got into us, but I think we used every available surface in his two-room suite.

It's no wonder I'm a little sore today.

"_You don't really have to go,"_ he said as I attempted to put myself back together in preparation for a four a.m. walk of shame. _"I just don't want to be taking advantage of the moment. I don't want you to say yes and then go back to your place tomorrow and realize you don't want me in it. Or you don't want to move away from it. Or…"_

"_It's okay," _I assured him, pausing in my hunt for my underwear.

I went over to where he stood leaning against the window, and then I turned around so that he would zip my dress for me.

For a moment, he didn't move, and then he slowly dragged the zipper upwards and once it was back in place, he slipped his arms around my waist and hugged me to him, his lips pressing against the side of my neck.

"_I'm not sure if I said it, but…I love you,"_ he said quietly. "_And I want you to know that I'll never hurt you again. Not ever. __And I know we'll have a lot of things to work out, if you say yes, and if you say no…"_

He trailed off, and he sounded so sad just by the possibility that I might say no, and I finally get why he suggested that I leave afterwards.

Because we're so intertwined, with so much history between us, that it would be too easy to slip back into something without giving it the consideration it deserves.

"_Hey, no talking, remember?"_ I said as I turned in his arms. "_I agreed to your terms, so I'm going to go, and tomorrow night, we're going on a date, okay? And we'll talk about everything then."_

So I kissed him goodbye and now it's been a little more than twelve hours since I've spoken with him.

And I _miss_ him.

It's silly, considering we've gone much longer than this without talking, but I guess it's because he's been on my mind all day.

When I was in court…when I was taking a deposition…even when I ran into Will in the elevator.

I didn't know it, but he was already on as I ran to catch it, and the doors were nearly closed when I stuck my hand in, sending the doors in reverse direction.

_"Oh, sorry," _I said as I stood for a moment, just looking at him.

"_You can get on. I won't bite,"_ he said with a smile.

The funny thing is that I wasn't hesitant because it felt awkward. I was really just remembering the time when Peter came to the office and was on the elevator with Will.

I went to meet him, and the doors opened, and wow…the two of them were standing there, side by side.

At the time, I was struck by how much bigger Peter is than Will. Taller and broader and just…a larger presence as a whole. I think that was the first time in a long time that I really _looked_ at Peter.

It was also the beginning of this road we're on again.

This road of togetherness.

"_Alicia?" _Will questioned.

"_Yeah, um…thanks," _I mumbled as I moved into the elevator.

"_So…everything okay?"_

"_It's fine."_

"_And we're…"_

"_We're fine,"_ I said firmly.

I felt him stare at me for a moment or two, and I think he wanted to ask something else, but I pulled out my phone to check messages, and he let the matter drop.

Which is a good thing because I'm not going to repeat past mistakes.

We talked yesterday, and I meant what I said. Honestly, it shouldn't even be an issue anymore. We broke up a long time ago, and it almost makes me wonder if he can tell just by looking at me that I'm invested in someone else again. If maybe he wants me _more _when it's on the sly, when I can't commit…I don't know, maybe I'm way off base but it's food for thought.

Anyway, I made it through the day and then a couple of minutes ago, Kalinda stopped by to see if I was interested in having a drink with her, and I am because downing a shot or two with her often helps clear my head, even when she doesn't say much of anything at all.

So I packed up a few files that I need to take home with me and headed out, and fifteen minutes later, I was on a bar stool, placing an order for two shots of tequila. Kalinda isn't here yet, but I'm sure she will be any minute.

"Hey," she said as she slid onto the stool next to me.

"I ordered for you."

"Okay."

Her response is quiet, almost hesitant. Pretty much the same as she's been with me for the past couple of years.

Like she's waiting for me to go off on her.

It occurs to me that maybe I had a subconscious ulterior motive for wanting to join her for drinks tonight.

Maybe it's symbolic.

If I'm going to move forward with Peter, I need to accept the fact that the past is the past, and that includes his involvement with Kalinda.

She and I weren't friends back then. It wasn't a betrayal of _me_ in any sense other than that I was the unknown wife. And after we met…well, when would've been the right time to tell me? I mean, I'm not condoning that she kept the secret, but still…I think I get why she did.

I considered that for a moment as the bartender set us up with two shots and a couple of lime wedges.

Taking a deep breath, I picked up the glass and turned towards her as I said, "We haven't done this in a while."

"No," she agreed.

"We should get back in the habit."

One of the things I appreciate about Kalinda is that I never have to spell anything out for her.

She's sharp.

And this time isn't any different, because as I made the suggestion while staring at her purposefully, she hesitated briefly and then let out a measured exhale as a small smile played on her lips.

And she could've pointed out that we _have _met at the bar a few times recently.

Or she could've simply agreed with my statement.

Instead, she recognized that it's my way of accepting her apology, even though it's been quite a few weeks since the last one was offered, that night in the hotel in Minnesota.

"You think?" she asked as she reached for her glass.

"Definitely," I said, tapping my glass against hers.

We each downed our shots, and as I ordered round two, I found myself smiling. I'm not sure why, but I just feel…lighter.

"So catch me up," Kalinda said. "What's going on with you?"

"Well…I have a date tonight."

"Really," she said with interest. "With who?"

"Peter."

Her expression faltered for a second, like she thinks my remark was some kind of test or something, and I guess I can't blame her.

"It's a good thing," I assured her.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

She nodded slowly as held my gaze and then she said, "Okay."

"So what about you? Are you seeing anyone?"

As I posed the question, her cell phone buzzed, and I was surprised to see her smile as she read the text message.

"You _are _seeing someone," I stated with amusement. "Who?"

She smiled fully but didn't answer my question as she typed a reply into her phone, and when she finished, she said, "It's…nothing."

"Oh, come on. Do I know him? Her? Him?"

She set down her phone and picked up her glass, so I grabbed mine, too and we tossed back the second round of shots.

"Him," she said quietly as she put her empty glass back on the bar. "But it's…I don't know what it is yet."

So it might be something, but of course she'll never admit it. Honestly, the fact that she said it's a man is more information than I expected to get from her.

"You're not going to ask more questions?" she asked after a minute.

"Why? You won't answer me," I replied with a grin.

"Huh," she said thoughtfully, and then to my surprise, she said, "This is between us."

"Of course," I said immediately, and as she continued to stare at me without saying anything, it hit me that she's_ trying_. To be open, and be my friend, and _share_ things…something she has trouble with.

She's offering me her trust, and for Kalinda, it's an invaluable gift.

So she told me about her fledgling relationship, and I told her a little more about my reconciliation with Peter, and we went through two more rounds of tequila shots before it was time for me to leave.

We agreed to meet again after work on Friday, and then I headed for the restaurant. Peter offered to pick me up, but since the kids are home, and my mother's still there…I just thought it would be easier if I don't have to explain things to them. At least not yet.

"You came."

I had just entered the restaurant when I heard Peter's voice from off to the right.

"I said I would."

"I know, but…" he shrugged and smiled as he approached me, and then he planted a quick kiss on my cheek before adding, "You've had the light of day to change your mind, so I wasn't sure."

His insecurity tugs at my heart because it's something he usually keeps so well hidden. From the public, from friends, from me…or at least he used to.

But he's definitely a changed man.

"Mr. Florrick, your table is ready," the maître d announced, so we put our conversation on hold as we followed him through the restaurant to a quiet corner table.

Once we were seated, Peter ordered us a bottle of wine and then after the waiter left us alone, he sat back in his chair and looked at me nervously.

"So…are we talking about this now?" I asked.

"No."

"No?"

"I know that was the idea, but I didn't think it through. We're in a public restaurant, and even though one very specific part of me will be ecstatic if you say you want us to stick with our sex-only relationship, the rest of me will be devastated. And pictures of me crying in my wine probably won't help my campaign, so…"

I chuckled at the dramatic image he painted, but he just kept looking at me with a serious expression on his face.

"So maybe we just have our date, and then we'll talk afterwards," he finished. "In private."

_He really thinks I'm going to say no_.

Even after I told him that I love him.

Most likely because he blames himself entirely for what happened to us. But I don't.

I mean, I _did_.

Before.

I maintained the illusion that I had no culpability whatsoever for our downfall.

Probably because his flaws were thrown into the spotlight while everyone viewed me as the victim. I bought into that for a while.

But it was both of us.

In the murder of our marriage, we're undoubtedly in pari delicto.

But I think it says something that after all we've been through, and after the time that's passed and the mistakes that were made, we both still love each other.

I think it means we can do it right this time, as long as we've learned from our mistakes.

I reached out my hand, resting it palm up on the table in invitation, and he covered it with his.

I can't let him spend the next few hours steeped in uncertainty.

"I don't ever want to forget this moment. This feeling," I said quietly. "I think that's what happened before. We were married, but maybe we forgot why."

He nodded and sat up straight in his chair as he stared at me expectantly, clearly realizing that I'm not going to wait to have this conversation.

And I know there's a lot to work out. Details and logistics…when to tell the kids, and where to live, and what if anything to release to the press…but none of that has to be figured out tonight.

Right now, it's just about me and him.

I've thought about it all day, exactly what I wanted to say to him. Not the answer itself, but the specific words to use, and nothing came to mind, which was driving me crazy because I'm a lawyer, for God's sake. I talk for a living.

But sitting across from him, I didn't have to reach for words.

They were just right there.

"So this time, I promise not to forget how much I love you, or how much I need you, or how important it is to make time for just us," I said as I clasped his hand tightly.

"You're saying yes?" he asked, and in spite of the seriousness of the moment, I had to laugh because maybe I wasn't being quite as eloquent as I thought.

But that's okay.

The look of hopefulness and love on his face, and the feel of his hand holding mine, and the need for me to cut to the chase and be direct only adds to the memory of the moment.

"Yes, I'm saying yes."

**The End**


End file.
